Our Lady of Sorrows
by DeadToLove
Summary: Co-written with BloodForMyBreakfast. Frerard. Gerard and Frank are married, and have families. Big Day Out is coming around the corner, and Gerard is lusting after Frank. Again. Frank may be lusting after Gerard too, but will he go far enough to end his marriage?/ Deadly does Frank's POV, and Blood does Gerard's POV.
1. Chapter 1

"I miss you..." Gerard murmured in my ear, moving my longish hair away from my neck so he could kiss it.

"We shouldn't be doing this. We're married, Gee. You have a wife and a baby. I have a wife, and three babies. This is wrong..." I gasped as he bit down softly on my neck.

"They don't have to know..."

"It's wrong, Gerard." I turned to face him, his gorgeous hazel eyes capturing my attention. I subconciously reached up, and tangled my fingers in his soft orange-blonde hair.

"I know...I miss you, Frankie? Don't you miss me?"

"Of course I do...you know I do."

"Then kiss me." He whispered. I finally pressed my lips to his in a kiss, and he captured mine back, kissing me deep and passionate. My hands released his hair, and my arms wrapped around his neck. His hands slipped from my shoulders to rest on my waist. He continued to kiss me, and I could feel the electricity running down my spine from his touch. I pulled away after a few minutes.

"...I should go." I whispered, turning to leave. He grabbed my wrist.

"Don't go... Frankie, don't go. We'll think of something, I'll leave Lyn-Z. I'll let her keep Bandit, and only see her on weekends. You can leave Jamia, and do the same thing with your kids."

"I can't leave her, Gerard. I married her for a reason. I love her."

"Don't you love me?"

"Of course I do, Gee, but I married her. It's a vow I can't break. It's not in my nature. You had your chance, and then you married Lyn-Z."

"I do love Lyn-Z. I love you more."

"I'm sorry Gerard, but I'm not leaving Jamia. I'm not tearing apart my family."

Then I walked away.

~X.x.X~

As I lay in bed with Jamia a few months later, I thought back to that night. It'd taken awhile, but Gerard finally understood where I was coming from, and he'd forgiven me for not leaving her. We were best friends again, joined at the hip. When I glanced over at Jamia, and watched her sleep for a few minutes, I smiled. I knew I'd made the more logical decision, but...but what would have happened if I _would _have chosen to leave her and run off with Gerard?

It bothered me that I didn't know the answer.


	2. Chapter 2

"Frank...mmm, Frank...Frank!" I moan, something hotand delicious in my mouth, something considerably heavier than a duvet on top of me. I open my eyes. What is this?

He's...he's on top of me. Just like the old times. We're not even in bed; we're on the floor of the tour bus, though I can't see Mikey or Ray anywhere. Perhaps they're still out, or they're hiding from the sound. They probably think this is gross. At least we can trust them to keep it secretfrom our wives. No...Lyn-Z...Jamia...oh, what does it matter? We do love them,we're not liars. It's just...this means more to us. Means more to me.

There's a heated friction between us, and his tongue is inside my mouth. All I can focus on is the weight of his body on my body,the way he moulds into me perfectly, as if we were born to fit together, betogether, stay together. I love...I love him...I love...

X.x.X

"Daddy!" And that's when my eyes open again. There'ssomething lighter than Frank on top of me. It's the duvet. In my...house? In mybed. With my wife by my side and my daughter tugging so hard at my hand thatI'm caught off balance and nearly fall on the floor. A few moments later, Lyn-Zwakes up too, sitting up and smiling at us both. I married her. I love her. Iknow the drill. Know what I have to do to function without admitting I keep dreaming about sex with my best friend. I've had the same dream every night since we made up. It's definitely better than the nightmares about Frank on topof Jamia that I had while I still hated him.

"Hey, handsome," Lyn-Z purrs, rolling into me and resting her head on my chest, looking up at me with big dreamy eyes that I can't help but tumble into. It's as though I can see her soul through them. It's innocent and clean and pure. Not at all like mine.

"Morning, beautiful," I reply, letting a smile playabout on my lips. I sit up, holding her hands, leaving her laying flat on thebed, and I lean over and kiss her hard, hungry, on the lips. She knows – I can tell by her moan – that I love her and want her. I do. Just not as much as I love and want and _need_ Frank.

"Ew..." Bandit grimaces, and Lyn-Z and I laugh,kissing each other once more quickly before pulling apart.

"Sorry, honey," Lyn-Z grins at our daughter. "You get kisses too, though."

I do kiss Bandit on the cheek as I lift her up,seating her on top of our covers in between us. "It's gross when you kiss," shecomplains adorably, only she can't say 's' right, so it sounds like, "Ish grothwhen you kith" or something. It's cute, whatever it is. Lyn-Z tickles her untilshe's howling with laughter, and when she stops trying to escape and acceptsher giggly punishment, my wife lets her go and kisses her on her tiny nose.

"Help Daddy make breakfast," my wife advises, kissingBandit again, and then me, grabbing me by the shirt I've just tossed on andpulling me across the bed, before pushing me back when she's done with me, sothat I giggle. "I need a shower."

Bandit helps me make eggs on toast and coffee, and Iwhen she hammers my knee with a miniature fist, trying to regain my attention (I'm daydreaming about what happened with Frank that night...when we fell out),and then demands a hug, I laugh, lift her onto my hip and wonder why I wouldever want anything other than what I already have. My gorgeous wife is upstairswashing her hair. My perfect little girl is nestled against me, sucking herfingers and babbling away about nothing in her own strange language. A fewyears ago, I was depressed, and an alcoholic, and addicted to drugs. I wantedto die. But, an irritating voiceinside my head adds, you were with Frank,too. Which do I want more, though? Happiness or Frank? It's a hard choice.

Because...well, having Lyn-Z and Bandit: that makes mehappy. I love them to pieces. Not being able to have Frank...that makes meunhappy. I need Lyn-Z because I can't have Frank. And I hate lying to her, hateusing her, but...what else can I do? He won't tear his family apart for me. AndI refuse to devastate mine. It took me a long time, before, to work out why hewouldn't sacrifice everything for me, when I was so prepared to crash throughthe illusion of perfection that was my life, and wreck it all for the warpedperfection that was my relationship with my best friend. Was it better before,when we hated each other, so that I could ignore his existence and let myselfhave closure, at least? Or was it better now that I had a best friend again,but one I lusted over. Every time I'm with my family I can't stand the thoughtof choosing Frank over them. But every time I'm with Frank, I can't stand thethought of being without him. It boils down to the same question, no matter howI dwell on it. Happiness or Frank? And I still don't know what the answer is.


	3. Chapter 3

Jamia rolled off me, and curled into my side. I pulled her naked body closer to me, and kissed her roughly. After the dream I'd had about Gerard, I needed my sexy little wife to bring me back to reality. My dream went something like this...

_My nails clawed down Gerard's back and his warm body pressed mine into the sheets. I heard myself moan as his hips shoved forward to meet mine. He was moaning quietly into my ear, and I felt the burning sensation I used to feel back in the day when we'd do this. It ripped through me, and I cried out, the burning need for him satisfied for the moment, the want increasing, and the love getting stronger._

_"I love you..." I gasped out to him, forgetting about Jamia, Lyn-Z, and the kids. _

_"I love you too..." He whispered. I reclaimed his mouth with mine, and pushed him onto his back, making sure that the entire world knew-_

And then I woke up. I woke up with a slight problem, and my sudden gasp woke Jamia. She'd noticed right away, and her eyes had darkened. She'd pinned me to the bed, and I let her have her way with me.

I felt much better after the entire ordeal was over, and I wanted her _again, _so I'd pinned her to the bed, and made sure to claim her as mine.

~X.x.X~

I stood between Jamia's legs as she sat on the counter. She giggled as I played with the waistband of her jeans, whimpering when I'd started kissing her neck, grazing my teeth across the soft skin. Cherry and Lily had run in right as I'd molded my lips to hers...

"Ew!"

"Icky!"

"Stop!" They'd both shrieked as they wrapped themselves around my legs. I'd laughed, and scooped them both up at the same time, making them shriek. I kissed each of them all over their faces. They squealed, and wiggled in my arms. I laughed, and carried them to the living room. I sat them down by their dollhouse, and sat beside them. Lily picked up a doll, and gave it to me, making me smile. Cherry and Lily each grabbed a doll, and began playing. I played with them, entertaining them while Jamia checked on Miles, fed him, and made breakfast.

"I love you guys." I said to them as they threw their little arms around me.

"I love you!" Cherry giggled.

"I love cookies!" Lily said, making me laugh. I burried my nose in their hair, and hugged them tighter to me. How could I ever dream of giving this up?

~X.x.X~

I packed my bag that night. We were leaving tomorrow morning, and I'd played with the twins most of the day, and snuggled Miles as much as I could. Jamia came in wearing a nightgown she rarely wore to bed. I'd abandoned my packing as soon as I saw here, and wrapped my arms around her. She was crying.

"Hey...hey don't cry...I'll be home before you know it." I murmured, brushing her tears away.

"I know...I just..." she sniffled, "I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you too baby...I'll call you every night okay? Well, it'll be morning for you, but I'll call if you want sweetheart." I promised. She nodded. I kissed her soft and deep on the mouth. We ended up on the bed, our bodies molding into one as the night progressed, my packing forgotten.

This lasted three quarters of the night, so afterward, I let her sleep, tucking the blanket around her naked body. I'd pulled on a pair of sweatpants, and began packing again. When I finished, I'd put my guitar in it's case, and set my suitcase, guitar, and amp by the door. I went and layed with each twin for a bit in their room before going into the baby's room, and picking up a sleeping Miles. I sat in the rocking chair, rocking him gently. I'd lay him back down when the sun rose, and went back to my room. I felt tears prick my eyes, but I forced them back as I curled up beside Jamia, wrapping my arms around her. She curled into my touch, and I shakily kissed her forehead.

~X.x.X~

After I'd met up with the guys and we'd boarded the plane, I'd ended up between Mikey and Gerard. I leaned my head back against the seat, and closed my eyes, quickly falling asleep. I didn't realize that my head fell onto Gerard's shoulder, or that I'd curled into him for warmth.


	4. Chapter 4

"Frankie!" I shake him gently. "Frank, you need to wake up now. We have to get off the plane in a minute." Nope. Nothing. No response. Zilch. He's out cold, without a doubt. "Frank!" I whine, but it makes no difference. So I try a different tactic. "Frankie..." I whisper, my chin tucked neatly into the crook of his neck, like it was made to fit there. My hair tickles his face; I see that he snuggles into it. "Frank, we have to go now, sweetie. The plane's about to land." Still no response.

"Oh, c'mon..." I moan, looking to my brother for help. But he's too busy drinking the last of his stale coffee (I swear, he's had like nine cups and still looks shattered, like he might fall over any second now), laughing over the seat at something Ray said behind him, feeling confusedly at his coat and jeans pockets, like he's lost something, and wondering why the stewardess is looking at him so funnily. She's looking at him like that because we've not even been told to put on our seatbelts yet, and he's already standing up and ready to leave.

I have an idea, and I try it out...to no avail. I tap him lightly, twice on the shoulders, and then brush his fringe out of his gorgeous eyes. That's when I notice how warm he is; his hair is wet from the sweat on his forehead, and there's perspiration all along his top lip, too. Puzzled, I press the back of my hand to his boiling forehead, and then on each of his cheeks in turn, which I note are a lot pinker than usual. He's burning up! Anxious, I put my ear to his, listening to him breathe. He snorts at me, and then goes back to softly snoring, exactly how he was before. At least his breathing seems healthy, but I'm still concerned. I try to take his pulse, but it takes me about five minutes to find the right place on his wrist, and then I realise I'm not really sure how fast it's supposed to be, anyway. 80 beats per minute? 70? 100? I think it feels fast, but that could just be paranoia, so I don't know. Mikey's noticed me by now.

"Wake him up!" he hisses at me, because the neon sign is flashing red, saying in English, then French, then Spanish, then something else that we're about to land. My brother has finally taken the hint from the stewardess and is sitting down, jittery on the edge of his seat.

"He won't wake up. And he has a massive temperature. I'm worried about him, Mikes." I chew on my lip as I say this, but my brother smiles reassuringly at me.

"I'm sure he'll be fine, Gee. He's just tired." He pauses, looks around, then stares at the ground and addresses his shoes. "We all are, okay? He probably misses his kids. I miss Alicia already... Plus, you know how often he gets sick. He has his meds. He'll sleep it off; it'll be fine tomorrow." I study him dubiously, to see if he's lying to me or if he really believes this himself. "Promise," he says solemnly, then grins. "You better carry him. I'm not."

I don't mind in the slightest having to carry Frank, so I clear his face of hair again, and scoop him up when Mikey stands, taking all three of our hand luggage bags down. My right arm rests under his knees, and my left wraps around his torso, pulling him into my chest, so that his head lolls forwards a little, leaning cutely on my chest. I smell his hair: shampoo and sweat. It's not the nicest of scents, but I adore it anyway. I wonder if this is weird, then remember that Lindsey never complains when I come off stage and hug her, reeking from drowning in my own sweat for ninety minutes. Maybe it doesn't matter when you love someone.

It's awkward getting all our suitcases, but Ray, Mikes and our tour manager manage to grab all the bags between them. Frank feels heavier than he looks, and with every step I take, I swear he gains a pound, and it gets more and more difficult to walk with him. But I can't complain about having him in my arms. Maybe I'm just not strong enough. Before we're out of the airport, I have to swing him round carefully, so he's manoeuvred into some sort of fireman's lift thing, his head over my shoulder. Almost his entire body is damp, but when I fasten him in the taxi, and let him lean on me again, I feel that the sweat is cold. While he sleeps, his head rests on my shoulder, and I lean my head on top of his. He really is boiling...and freezing, at the same time. I peel my jacket off and lay it over him, then get Mikes to open the window for us.

I know that the climate outside is pleasantly warm and unpleasantly humid, but that the taxi driving quickly means there's wind coming through the window. I know Frank smells strangely beautiful, and I breathe in the smell of his hair while I lay my cheek on his hair. I know Frank is ill, and that I'm worried about him. I know I miss Lyn-Z and Bandit. And I know I love Lyn-Z and Bandit. But I also know that I love Frank more than I love my wife, which is never good. But I don't know which means more to me...my child or my best friend? And the lines begin to blur, and I forget what I know, and somehow, somewhere, though I don't realise it's happening, I fall asleep.

X.x.X

"No, no, don't wake them up..."

"We can't carry both of them!"

"No, wait, we can...do it like Gerard did. You get Frank, and I'll get Gee. We'll come back for the bags in a minute."

"How will we get in! Can you get the key for us?"

"No...no, you go and get the key...I can get the bags out."

"They look so peaceful...he looks so happy."

"What about Frank, though?"

"Ah...I'm worried. But...we'll call a doctor or something if it gets worse. He'll be fine. He's always fine."

"What if he isn't fine this time? I mean, he won't wake up. At all. That can't be a good sign, can it?"

"We haven't tried to wake them."

"Don't. Let them be. Just let them sleep...Gee didn't sleep at all on the plane, and Frank needs to rest."

"Okay...come here...let me get him...yeah..."

All I know is that there are voices, maybe one or two or three. I can't process what they're saying or what the heavy words mean. The weight of Frank's head disappears from my shoulder, and I quite miss it, but I soon feel weightless, almost like I'm flying, but there are restraints. The restraints, I think, are somebody's arms. Someone is carrying me...I think...

X.x.X

Daylight creeps through the curtains about three hours earlier than I thought it was supposed to. I'm in my clothes, but someone removed my shoes and hoodie, and the duvet is all tangled at my feet, like all I did all night was squirm. The bed is single, and this is a shock, so I fall out of it as soon as I try to turn over. Lyn-Z is not next to me, and neither is Frank, so I don't know where I am. The room is white, and for a moment I worry I might be in a hospital, but then I see a flatscreen that's too big for a hospital, and then the other bed next to me, at the other end of the room. There's a scrunched-up figure in it, and there are moans and groans and horrendous, pained noises coming from the bed. I untangle myself and rush over, remembering that the moaning groaning pained figure is Frank.

"Frankie? Frank, are you okay?" He flutters his eyelids, which is more of a response than I've gotten before, so I'm content with it. "Can you hear me, honey?"

He makes an 'mmm' noise, and then turns over, but turns back suddenly and sits up straight in the space of about half a second, like he's having night terrors. I glance at the clock on the wall. 1:30 am. Why is it so fucking bright? Morning terrors. Jeez, this time difference is messing with my head. I have jet lag.

Oh, fuck that! What has Frank got? My Frank?

"Jam...no...Gee?" He opens both his eyes at once, and screams, but I take hold of his face, sitting next to him on the bed, and force him to look at me.

"Are you okay?" I demand, though I can feel that the cold sweat has gone. He's warm, yes, but I think that's the heat, not the illness.

"I'm..." His head rolls around, and he giggles. "Woozy! I like that word..." He gazes off into the distance.

"You're delirious."

"I'm high."

I nod, feeling like his parent. "Oh, sure you are. What are you high on, exactly? Latte?"

He laughs at this. "I feel like I'm floating. But it doesn't hurt anymore. It hurt when I was sleeping."

This makes me frown, makes me remember what I wish I couldn't recall. "You wouldn't wake up."

He frowns too, though seems confused rather than upset. "What time is it?"

"It's, um...1:30 in the morning here. Which means it's lunch time back home. You wanna call Jamia?" I manage not to wince when I say her name; I'm getting good at this.

He pauses to think. "No. Well, yes, I want to talk to her. But not like this. I might...might say something weird. I'm I feel weird...I don't want her to get scared."

I nod, understanding. "Hey, it's okay. You'll be okay. You definitely look better than you did before, and I'm sure you'll be fine later on. Do you want to see a doctor, though? Just to be sure?"

He shakes his head. "I'm fine, Gerard. Really. I will be..." There's a pause. "Damn, can I get this fucking duvet off! It's boiling!"

I laugh at him, and together we toss the sheets onto the floor, piling them on top of mine. "I love you, Frankie."

I gasp. Where did that come from? Surely not my mouth. I hear it, but don't say it...I'm sure I don't say it.

The sun blinds us through the window. It hurts my eyes. Frank puts his hand on my head and brushes my hair out of my eyes.

"I know, Gee. I...I still love you too, y'know. Just not enough, not like before." He sighs. "Let's not do this, not again. I do love you, Gerard Way. But I can't...Hey, I promised we wouldn't do this! I can't do this to us again. No. We're not doing this, okay? All you need to know is that I love you."

"But not enough to leave her?"

I hate how whiny and desperate I sound. But...what am I? Whiny and desperate, that's what I am.

"Not enough to leave my family, Gee. Not Jamia, or Miles, or Lily and Cherry. You know that. You wouldn't leave Bandit, would you?"

I pretend think about it, but I know the answer immediately. "No. No, I couldn't leave her."

"Well, then. Let's not do this to ourselves. You look knackered, and I feel like shit, so let's focus on something else. Call Lyn-Z. Speak to Bandit. Let's go eat. Fuck...hehe...fuck..." He trails off. A minute later, he continues, like nothing happened. I'm worried about him, seriously. Really worried. "I'm hungry, I mean. Let's go find food. There must be some somewhere..."

My lips are on his. It hurts. Hurts to know he doesn't want my lips there. Hurts to be confused if even I want them to be there or not. Everything hurts. My life hurts, when it really should be perfect.

"No...no..." But he kisses me back. And actions speak louder than words.

We pull apart only when there's a knock at the door. It's our tour manager, his hand on his hip in the most camp way possible.

"Could you have your affair quietly, please?" he complains, rubbing his eyes. Clearly, he's adjusted to the time here already.

Then I register what he's said. My mouth falls open. He knows. He knows he knows he knows he knows. What do we do? What do we do now?

It takes Frank's inane giggling for me to recognise that he's kidding, and then I laugh too loud and too hard, until he goes away. I don't know what to do with myself then. Neither does Frank, apparently. He sits rigidly on his bed, and I sit on mine, opposite him with seven or eight feet between us.

"We have to keep this secret, Gee," Frank worries, a deep crease appearing between his eyes. How he transfers from being so immature to so anxious so quickly defies me, but I just shrug and forget it.

"I know, Frankie, I know."

"I wish it wasn't so complicated..."

"But it is, though, isn't it? And we have to deal with that. It's our faults. We deal with the consequences."

He nods at this, but frowns. "I love you..."

It's my turn to nod. "Yes." It's all I can choke out. Because what do you say to that? I love him, and I know he loves me.

But...what was it that he said? Just not enough. He doesn't love me enough. So what's the point in loving me at all? And what's the point of me loving him? What's the point in anything, fuck!

I glare hatefully at the floor for five or ten or six hundred minutes, and when I look up, I'm launched to my feet by some subconscious force, because I need to move, but I'm mesmerised. Frank coughed, I heard him. And now he's unconscious. And there's blood on his hands, and on his face, and on the bed. And he's coughing up blood and he's passed out, and I should do something before he...before he dies. He's dying, I think. And he loves me. And I love him. And what does anything matter anymore?

I wish it wasn't so complicated... He read my mind when he said that. He read my fucking mind.


	5. Chapter 5

When I wake up again, I feel horrible. Not horrible in the, "I'm-coughing-up-blood-and-in-fucking-pain" horrible. Well, I do feel horrible in that sense, but I also feel horrible in the sense that "I-just-kissed-my-sexy-as-fuck-best-friend-when-I-swore-to-myself-I'd-never-do-that-again" horrible. I didn't want to get out of bed. I just wanted to lay there and sleep forever, so I wouldnn't have to face Gerard. Now the pain was just a dull ache, but already I was drained enough that all I wanted to do was sleep.

Gerard had moved me to his bed because the sheets were cooler, and he wanted the cleaning lady to change the sheets on my bed. The cooler sheets felt nice against my warm skin, and Gerard had given me my meds and made sure I ate lots of toast and drank lots of ginger ale. I napped on and off throughout the rest of the day, the only sounds being the TV and Gerard moving around quietly.

The conversation had seemed like a dream. Every part of it did. I did love Gerard though..so much...huh...falling...asleep...nnn...

~X.x.X~

When I woke up, I could hear soft snoring from the other bed. Gerard lay on top of the covers, beautiful and innocent as he slept. I shakily got out of bed, not feeling sick anymore. I went and got a shower to rinse off the germs and sweat. When I came back out with only a towel around my waist, I half expected Gerard to be sitting there with a playful smirk on his lips, ready to rip the towel off and have his way with me. Then I remembered that those days were over, and he was still asleep just like I had left him. I pulled on a pair of pajama pants, and flopped on the bed beside him. I didn't feel like laying in a bed that had all my sick germs on it. At least, that would be my excuse for laying with him. I closed my eyes, and quickly fell asleep, his soft breathing and snoring my lullaby.

~X.x.X~

I woke up in Gerard's arms. I was half on top of him, and half beside him. He was still asleep, snoring quietly. I dared to peek up at him, watching him sleep.

"Mmmrph...Frankie...unn..." He mumbled. I couldn't help the small giggle that escaped me. Suddenly, I felt him _poking my thigh. _I felt a surge of lust and electricity go through me. I had to restrain myself as best as possible WITHOUT attacking him. He tried to roll, so I carefully moved off him, rollng away and facing the opposite direction. I felt him wrap his arms around me from behind and _press himself against my ass. _I felt myself whimper, and his eyelids fluttered open.

"Shit...Frank...I'm sorry...mmmmmm..." I silenced him with a kiss. At the moment, I didn't care about Jamia. I didn't care about our families. I didn't care about anything except for Gerard. You think I have perfect self control? Well when it comes to this perfection named Gerard beneath my fingertips, that's another story. My self control and I always have constant battles when he's around, and right now, my self-control was being forgotten.

My mouth was completely claimed by his, and I was straddling his lap. My hips rubbed against his, creating a delicious friction I hadn't felt in forever. His hands held my hips, and he rocked up meet my hips as he kissed me back. My tounge slipped into his mouth, and my hands knotted into his hair. We didn't hear the knock on the door, or hear the door open.

"What the hell is going on in here?" Mikey yelled. We jerked apart, and I heard myself whimper, and Gerard immeaditly hid me behind his back, and glared at Mikey. I cringed, gripping the back of his shirt.

"You two are married! What the hell are you thinking you fucktards? No, don't answer that- I don't want to fucking know." Mikey was pissed beyond belief. I felt tears spring to my eyes,and I crawled away from Gerard. Mikey took one look at our defeated faces, and his eyes softened.

"I'm not mad. I'm just confused is all." Mikey sat in front of Gerard, and I curled against Gerard's side for safety. Suddenly, reality sank in, and I realized what I'd done.

~X.x.X~

I hung out with Ray for a bit so Mikey and Gerard could talk. We fooled around with our guitars, and played Ray's xbox that he'd brought along.

"So...what's going on with you and Gerard?" Ray asked as he killed another zombie.

"W-What? Nothing. I don't know what your talking about."

"Your a bad liar, Frankie."

"I know. Don't remind me."

"Well, what's going on?"

"I...would you believe me if I said I wasn't very sure? That I'm confused, and I can't tear apart my family for him, no matter how much I love him and need him?"

"...yeah. I would believe that." He dropped the subject, and we returned to killing zombies in silence.

~X.x.X~

"He fell asleep." I heard Ray murmur. I was being carried. I was too tired to open my eyes.

"Thanks Ray." Gerard whispered. I was passed into Gerard's arms, and the door quietly clicked shut as Gerard carried me into the room. He lay me down gently on one of the beds, and lightly pulled my shirt off. I felt him playing with the waistband of my jeans, which he slid down my hips after making sure I was asleep. I might've been, because I heard myself snore.

He then slid my pajama pants up my legs, and made sure the waistband was snug around my hips. He tucked the blankets around me, and I slipped deeper into unconciousness.

~X.x.X~

I blinked my heavy eyelids open to find Gerard curled up beside me. He was snoring; not quietly, but not loud either. I shivered, and pressed myself closer into his warm body, relaxing when his arms went around me.

I'd only been asleep an hour or two, but my mind wouldn't shut down. I knew I needed sleep because we were preforming tomorrow, but how could I sleep when I was too keyed up to do so?

I debated waking up Gerard, but decided against it; he'd probably be grumpy and unreasonably sassy, and I can only deal with so much sass from him. You think Gerard's sassy on-stage and when he dances? Be best friends with him in real life. It's much worse than you think it is.

He snored adorably then, pulling me away from my thoughts. I watched him sleep, watching the way his mouth opened and closed because of his snoring. If he was snoring through his nose, his snoring would be much worse than this. I didn't mind this as much. I was nearly asleep again, when he began to snore through his nose. I sighed, and smacked his shoulder lightly.

"Shh..." I murmured. He was silent for a few minutes, before snoring loudly through his mouth. I growled in frustration.

"Gee..." I whined, bumping his chin with my nose. He snored again. I debated ways to make him be quiet in my head. Hmm...

I molded my mouth to his for what seemed like the millionth time in the past two days, and kissed him with all the force I had. It woke him up, and he kissed me back, half asleep. I quickly got out of bed afterward, embarrassed. I grabbed my phone, and went into the bathroom to call Jamia.

"Hello?" She answered on the third ring.

"Hey baby."

"Frankie!"

"Jamia." I chuckled.

"I miss you. It's two in the afternoon here, which means it's two in the morning for you. Shouldn't you be in bed?"

"Can't sleep. Gerard's snoring like a fucking chainsaw." I laughed. She giggled.

"Poor baby." She sympathized.

"How are you guys doing?"

"Good. Miles is napping, and the twins are playing with Bandit. Lyn-Z's here."

"Tell her I said hi." I told her. Jamia did, and I heard Lyn-Z shout the greeting back off in the distance.

"Momma! Is that Daddy?" I heard Cherry ask.

"Mhm. You wanna talk to him?"

"Yes!" I heard the Jamia give her the phone.

"Hi Daddy!"

"Hey sweetheart. How's my gorgeous little girl?" I asked, making her giggle.

"Good."

"That's good. Where's your sister at?"

"She's pwayin with Bandit."

"Can you give her the phone for me?"

"Okay. Love you Daddy."

"I love you too sweetheart. Be a good girl."

"Okay Daddy." Cherry said, giving Lily the phone.

"Daddy!" She squealed.

"Hey there princess! How are you?"

"Good."

"That's good."

"What's Mommy doing?"

"Pwayin with the baby."

"Can you give her the phone?"

"Mhm."

"I love you princess."

"I love you too." Then Jamia was back on the line.

"I miss you, Frank."

"I miss you too, Jamia. So fucking much baby."

"I love you." She whispered.

"I love you too." I murmured. We sat in silence, just listening to the other breathe.

"I'm going to try to sleep now, okay? I love you. I'll be home soon." I said.

"Okay. I love you too. Bye Frankie." She hung up, and I went back into the bedroom. Gerard was facing away from me, on his side, silent now. I swear I heard him sniffle, but I couldn't be sure. Gerard, crying? Never. I crawled into bed, and curled up against his back, trying to get warm. He yanked away from me, and got up to sleep in the other bed. I felt hurt and confusion show on my face. He ignored me, and curled up in the other bed. Fine. Two can play that game...

I meant to ignore him, but I felt the tears spill over anyway before I could stop them.


	6. Chapter 6

The next morning, I wake to the sound of silence. It's a dull, absent thud. The noise of nothingness burns my ears and almost deafens me. I wonder if I might be crazy now.

When I open my eyes, the first thing I am aware of is that Frank is not in the room. His snore, his smell, the weird way he lays in his bed...none of it is here. But I'm definitely not alone; I recognise my brother's loud snoring. It's a miracle I managed to sleep at all last night. Then again, I don't remember falling asleep, or even closing my eyes. I must have cried myself to sleep: my eyes are still red, sore and puffy.

Mikes is still sleeping, so I creep past him and into the bathroom. The tiles are cold on my feet, and the whole room is clean, but the mirror is covered in finger and hand prints, like someone's been stroking it or something. I put my outstretched hand up to it, covering two of the smaller prints. And I look at myself. Look at the person I've become. And then I want to cry, which I never do. I am Gerard Way, and I do not cry. But I want to, now, desperately. I need to. Like crying will make my problems go away.

Before I know what's happening, there's a slow trickle of salt water down my cheek. I'm not crying; I'm definitely not crying. I didn't cry myself to sleep last night, either. My eyes are watering because I'm tired; I still have jet lag, and I have hay-fever. It's not like I can control the fact that my eyes are watering. What sort of idiot would think I was crying, for God's sake? I don't cry! I never cry, never ever!

Smashing into the mirror with my fist, I then panic when a crack appears. Seven years of bad luck? Fuck, how many mirrors have I broken already? Oh, fuck that, I think. It's just a stupid superstition. But I'm still crying, I think: at least, there's something hot and wet on my face. I turn on the shower and climb in, undressing only when I realise my clothes are getting wet. I take ages, standing in the steamy heat for far longer than I need to, and when I climb out I brush my teeth, and then just turn to stone, gazing at my cracked, ragged reflection in the broken mirror. This seems symbolic; it could be a metaphor if my life was a 1800s novel. I tap the glass: shards of it fall into the sink below, and I slice my index finger. I lift it up to examine it more closely, turning it in front of my eyes, mesmerised by the contrast between the pasty white and the rich crimson. It takes my breath away. I can't breathe.

The door opens, and the sound of it scraping the tiles on the floor makes me gasp and jump, like I've been caught doing something I shouldn't. Mikey stands there in his boxers, rubbing his eyes exhaustedly, and running a hand through his messy hair. I grin madly, trying to hide the fact that my face is all red and tear-stained. "Hey Mikes!" The shrill enthusiasm makes me cringe, in all its blatant falseness.

"...What are you doing?" he wonders, his voice getting higher and higher toward the end of the question, so that by the '-ing', it's practically a shriek.

I pause, unsure of what to tell him, and, indeed, what I am actually doing. Finally, I sigh, and settle on telling him the truth. "I don't know, Mikey."

There's a silence, heady and humid. "Help me."

My brother just stands there, for maybe five or ten minutes, and just stares at me. Gulping, terrified, I stare back. Who am I? What have I become? What's wrong with me? Why has this happened...what went wrong?

"Oh, Gee..." Finally, he speaks. He steps forwards too, sliding clumsily along the floor. I catch him before he falls, and he pulls me into him. "It's going to be alright, Gerard. I promise you."

I shake my head, burying myself in his chest like a child. "No. No, it can't be. It's not ever going to be okay again."

"Tell me," he murmurs. "Tell me how to help."

I shake my head, though. There is no way to help. Nothing my brother, or my best friend, or my wife, or anyone can do. This problem is of my own creation, and I have to be the one to solve it. Problem is, I don't know how. "You can't help me. No one can help me. There's nothing anyone can do anymore. I love Lyn-Z. But I love Frank more. And Bandit...I can't stand to hurt her like that. She's my daughter. I have to protect her; it's my job. But I have to hurt someone, don't I? All I do...all I do is hurt people. Everywhere I go, everyone I meet, I hurt. I'm a bad person, Mikey. I don't want to be a bad person anymore."

He sighs. "Do you remember...before? When I...When I was depressed? Do you remember what you said to me?"

I shake my head, even though I remember it like it was just yesterday. I can picture every aspect of it: his voice, the way it cracked painfully, his face, the way it tore apart, his eyes, and all the sorrow in them, the tears he cried and the nightmares he had and the screams that ripped through his throat.

He shakes his head and holds me tight, kissing my forehead. "You said, 'Don't you dare leave me, because I needed you before, and I'll need you again soon. You need me now, and it's my job to save you, but it's your job to save me, too. Would you leave me alone when I need you most?' And I didn't know what to say to that. But now I know that it's true. Because you need me Gerard, and I don't know how to make any of this better, but I can promise you that we'll find a way, okay? Just...hang on for me, okay? I'll need you one day. Don't you dare leave me."

I swallow hard, because he's right - I feel exactly what he felt, all those years ago. What do I say to that? 'I'm sorry Mikey, I have to leave you'? I can't say that! I can't leave him, or my family. But I'm never going to be happy, am I? If I stay with Lyn-Z, I'll keep my family happy, but I'll always yearn for Frank, and that's not fair on anybody. Yet...what's my other option? Leave her, leave my child? And be with Frank? He wouldn't do that for me. And even if he did, the guilt would consume us both. That's when it hits me. There is no solution. I shouldn't feel like this, not about Frank, and not about myself. I have a wife, and I'm happy now. I'm fucking happy!

I'm not, though. I can never be happy. I'm living a lie, and it's not fair on the people I love. I can't stand to hurt any of them, but I'm hurting all of them! "Make it go away," I whisper to my brother. "Stop me from feeling like this."

He doesn't speak, just holds me tight. But then we're both shocked, we both jump at the same time, at the noise of a cell phone ringing. My cell, I realise. I recognise my ring tone. It's the one I set for my wife.

Lyn-Z is calling me now. Shit.


	7. Chapter 7

I woke up in Ray and Mikey's hotel room. I was bundled up under the covers, and the pillow was wet with my tears from the night before. I'd remembered coming in here, and Mikey had taken one look at me and left.

Ray was snoring loudly in the other bed, sprawled out on his back. I carefully got up out of bed, trying not to wake him, and slipped into the bathroom. I stripped down and got in the shower, sighing in relief as the hot water soothed my aching muscles. After about twenty minutes of standing under the warm spray, I got out and wrapped a towel around my waist. Someone must've brought me clothes, because my favorite skinny jeans and a shirt were on the counter for me to wear. I slipped the clothes on, and walked back into the bedroom. Ray STILL hadn't woken up. I shook him gently, and he slowly opened his eyes.

"Get up. We need to get ready." I said sharply. He nodded and got out of bed. I looked in the mirror, and began to put on eyeliner. I don't know why I still did this, but Gerard always said it made my eyes stand out more, so I figured, why not?

I got up from where I sat, and my eyes landed on a razor that Ray left laying. The thoughts that went through my head went something like this: I could just end it. Jamia would be fine, and she'd move on and get over me better than she would if I ran off with Gerard. Gerard would be able to love Lyn-Z fully because I wouldn't be around for him to love anymore. My babies might not remember me clearly, but that'd be okay. I could just end it now...

The razor was in my hand, and I debated tearing it apart and using the blades, but I couldn't do it. I couldn't do it no matter how much I wanted too. Something was stopping me from ruining everything for my family.

And it scares me to say that it wasn't Jamia that stopped me. It wasn't Cherry, Lilly, or Miles that stopped me. It wasn't even Gerard.

I had the blades torn out, and the blade was pressed to the skin of my arm. I must've paused for a fraction of a second, because...

"Frank. Put it down." I heard Mikey say from the doorway. He came toward me slowly, holding his hands up as if he was meaning no harm. I locked eyes with him, and he seemed to read into my soul. His eyes widened for a few minutes.

"Frankie...put it down. Can I see it? Can you give it to me?" He very carefully held his hand out toward me. I glanced at the blade pressed to my skin, and then at Mikey's hand. Multiple times. Very slowly, I silently handed the blade to him, and he took it carefully. He threw the destroyed razor and the blades in the trash can (carefully, so he wouldn't cut himself.) I felt myself being pulled into his arms and being held close. I found myself gripping Mikey's shirt as he hugged me, shivering and shaking with horror at what I'd almost done.

~X.x.X~

I messed with my guitar while waiting for us to go on stage next, strumming it subconciously, or re-tuning it over and over. Gerard was ignoring me, which stung a bit, but it could've been worse...

Ray and I played a few songs while we waited. Mikey was getting us coffee, and Gerard was talking to fans. I didn't notice when a girl tapped my shoulder. I eventually felt it, and turned to face her. She was young, probably a teenager. She held a camera in her hand, and a shirt in the other.

"Hi...can you sign this? And can I get a picture?"

"Sure." I smiled at her. I signed the shirt, and posed for a picture with her and Ray after Ray signed the shirt. I then gave the girl a hug when I saw the scars on her arms. She hugged me back shyly.

"I'll see you somewhere in the crowd, yeah?" I asked her before she left. She nodded, and left.

It's show time.


	8. Chapter 8

I wave goodbye to the circle of teenagers I've been talking to, and walk around the side of the stage to the dressing rooms. The moment I turn my head away from them, I drop my fake smile, keep my eyes locked on my boots, and bite my lip, guilt eating me alive. Lyn-Z... Bandit! My beautiful wife, and my amazing daughter. I glance at my cell...has it really only been two hours? Just two hours since I lied through my teeth? Just two hours since I said I was fine, and everything was going great, and that I'd call them again as soon as I could. None of these things are true. I'm cut about this entire situation, quite literally, and it couldn't really be any worse if we were trying to make this tour shitty, and I wasn't going to call until the guilt went away. The guilt will never go away. A life of misery or a life of guilt? For the sake of my child, and of Frank's kids, I think I'm going to have to choose the life of misery. But I can't see Frank anymore. No. It will make my life miserable and guilt-stricken. I don't have the capacity to deal with both of these feelings at the same time.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry about all of it, I'm sorry for everyone involved. It doesn't need to be like this. I could change it. Whatever I choose, and whatever Frank chooses, is going to massively affect almost everybody we know. Our families, our friends, each other... No. He's right, he was right all along. I have to choose Lyn-Z and Bandit. He has to choose Jamia, the twins and Miles. It's the only way we can stay sane, really. Though I'm sure it'll drive me insane.

Inside our dressing room, Mikey is playing Ray's guitar while the owner leans over his shoulders, laughing when Mikes messes whatever he's trying to play up. Frank is drinking coffee, his back to me, chatting to a couple of the crew members. They laugh, and then Ray laughs, and Mikey does too. And I am completely alone.

Some guy in a black t-shirt opens the door and leans his head through it. "Five minutes," he barks, then leaves like he was never even here.

"Show time, guys!" grins Frankie, winking in my general direction. I think it's in my general direction, anyway.

And, it is. Everything is about to kick off. This is the beginning of everything; I'm quite sure that it's the beginning of the end.

X.x.X

We finish our set ten minutes late, and our tour manager shakes his head disapprovingly, thoroughly pissed off, because apparently we have to pay $1000 for every minute we go over. They'll subtract it from what they were going to give us. Nobody seems to care. It was worth it; it was a good show. The crowd was amazing, and I completely forgot. What happens offstage stays offstage. You can't drag your real life misery up there with you. The fans want a good show; a reliable band to play without collapsing into wails of sorrow. We did it. We kept sane for them. They think we're okay. We will be okay.

We travelled here separately: Ray and Frank went in the van with all our shit, and Mikey and I followed later, in a taxi. I was still talking to Lyn-Z when they left, and even though I hate lying to them, I liked talking to my daughter - it reminded me of what I was potentially about to give up. Since I'm not planning on calling again, I wanted to talk to Bandit for as long as possible. But now we're all ready at the same time, so we all climb into the back of the van. I desperately want to talk to Frank, but not in front of everybody else. So when we go back to the hotel room (we're back in our original places, because we made up earlier, and everything is as about as fine as it could be) I ask Frank if he thinks we should talk. He nods, though doesn't speak, and sits on his bed, kicking the floor and averting his gaze. I look right at him though, daring him to make eye contact. Eventually, he does, but I have to look away then, because his eyes are beautiful and they're telling me to reconsider choosing my family over him.

Biting my lip insecurely, I finally gather the nerve to speak. "Frank, we need to talk about this again. About us."

A minute passes, and he doesn't respond. I look down, so I can't see him, and my hair washes over my face, blinding me. I blink, and then keep my eyes shut because it feels so good to be so detached from everything. However, someone lifts my chin up, and I look up, straight into Frankie's glimmering eyes. He brushes my hair out of my eyes and smiles sadly.

"I know, Gee. I know." He laughs humourlessly, his hand still touching my hair, and tucks it behind my ear.

"Well...what...what..." I can't finish. I don't know what to say; but then again, I never know what to say to him; not when we talk about shit like this.

"I know, Gerard. I know what you mean. There's nothing to talk about though, is there? We both need to make a decision. Either way, we get hurt. All we have to decide is who we're going to hurt on top of ourselves. And I think the fact that we both have kids changes everything. They need their daddies. We can't leave them; not while they're all so young. We have to hurt each other, Gerard, don't we?"

I nod slowly, the fact of the matter finally dawning on me. "I'll miss you," I say, and cough, because I'm all choked up and ready to cry. The back of his hand presses against my cheek: his hand is cold and my face is hot and vulnerable. Cold hands, warm heart.

"I'll miss this," he sighs, looking around the room glumly. "But it has to be this way. Would you rather hurt your family, and my family, and me, as well as yourself? Or just me and you? You know what the answer is, Gee. You know what we have to do. And it hurts like hell, I know that, but we can't keep lying to each other, and we can't keep lying to our wives and our children. There was a time when...well, it was never really acceptable, was it? You were with Eliza, and I was with Jamia...but it was different. I gave you a choice. Me or Lyn-Z. And you chose her. I would've chosen Jamia over you, if you had offered. It's just how it will always be. We have to accept that; have to live with the consequences of what we've done. And, I'm sorry Gerard, but we just can't go on like this. We have to think of our families now. Of our children."

"I...You're right, Frankie. You're always right. I'm just going to miss you so much. It feels so final, so definite..."

"Gee..." He breathes my name, but doesn't continue, and neither of us speaks. It's so intense, this moment...you could slice it with a knife. Every movement, every letter of every word is so carefully planned that nothing seems real anymore. It's like a dream, or a movie...it's all scripted. But this is real life. We're living this. We have to do this, together, but we must be apart. Together-apart.

After that, there is a long silence, and eventually Frank falls asleep, having already curled up on my bed. When he starts to snore lightly, I pull the covers gently around him, and kiss him once, briefly but passionately, on the temple. That will be the last time I kiss him. The reality of that consumes me so much that I feel I do not exist anymore: without him, I am nothing. But with him, I am so much less.

**The End.**


End file.
